


The Far Shore

by Violent_entertainment



Category: Bleach, ノラガミ | Noragami (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 11:37:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18010211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violent_entertainment/pseuds/Violent_entertainment
Summary: Just a bunch of non-connected ways in which the worlds of Bleach and Noragami could intersect.Ch.1: Yato Wastes All His Money On Crap From Urahara'sCh.2: The Ishidas and the Ikis Have DinnerCh.3: Yato Finds the Wrong CatCh.4: Getting to Hueco MundoCh.5: Ichigo Requests Yato's ServicesCh.6: Isshin is an EavesdropperCh.7: Ichigo & Co. Nearly Divulge the Gods' Greatest Secret





	1. Yato Wastes All His Money On Crap From Urahara's

Hiyori grinned as she approached Tenjin’s shrine. She could hear Yato excitedly talking about something, and began to pick up her pace. Sure enough, as she turned the corner she could see Yato showing something off to Yukine as the teen sat on the steps, grumpily munching on a bag of chips, half-ignoring him. Her smile faltered, then became an annoyed frown when she got close enough to hear and see exactly what Yato was saying and holding. 

“...and this spirit-repelling spray will definitely help with dealing with ayakashi. We can just spritz it around and presto! And I bought this headband of justice too! It’s not as stylish as my fluffy fluff scarf, obviously, but it’ll boost my defensive abilities sky-high.” He struck a pose, flipping the ends of his scarf pompously with a savage grin on his face. “I’d like to see Bishamon’s face next time she takes a shot at me and the bullets just bounce off! Oh, hey Hiyori!” 

He turned at her approach, smiling widely and digging around in a plastic bag before brandishing what appeared to be a PEZ dispenser capped with a bunny head. “I got this one for you! It’s soul candy. It’ll keep your body walking and talking like normal when you’re outside of it!" He looked mildly annoyed as he added, "I tried to get you a capypa one, but they didn’t have any. The shopkeeper said this was the most popular one, though.”

Her frown deepened. She ignored the offering, crossing her arms angrily instead. “That’s creepy! It was bad enough when I had you possessing my body, I don’t need it going around by itself doing who-knows-what. Aren’t you supposed to be finding a way to keep me from leaving it in the first place?”

Yato became a little flustered, waving his hands in denial. “I am, I am! I just thought, uh," He looked down and to the side, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "...in the meantime, that this would help.” 

Hiyori sighed, relenting. “It would be nice if my body could stay awake and take notes for me whenever it happens during the school day. I’m starting to fall behind in class. That’s actually why I’m here.” She nodded her chin towards the shrine. “But that’s just regular candy, Yato. You got scammed again.” 

The god looked shocked, glancing rapidly between her and the candy dispenser in his hand, then groaning. “But it was so expensive!” 

From behind him, Yukine gave a derisive snort. “Yeah, I’ll bet,” he chimed in. “You probably overpaid for that air freshener and headgear, too.” 

Hiyori jabbed a finger into Yato’s face, causing him to jump back. “You have to stop being lazy and get serious about fulfilling my request rather than looking for silly work-arounds. And stop spending money on useless junk! Get Yukine a new coat instead!” The regalia blushed and grumbled something under his breath. 

Hiyori watched the two of them jeer at each other for a moment then sighed again, pulling the money she’d intended as an offering for Tenjin out of her pocket. Grasping it between two fingers, she waved it gently in the air to get their attention. “Come on, you two. I’ll treat you to lunch.” 

\----------Two weeks later----------

Hiyori pulled Yukine behind her by the hand, eyes briefly closing as she subtly sniffed at the air, then pointed at an unassuming shop across the street. “He’s in there.” The sign read Urahara Shoten. She hopped down from the roof of the building they stood on, landing lightly and dragging the shinki with her. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. She nodded decisively. “Yeah, definitely.” When she pulled open the door, they could both see Yato near the back of the store, apparently examining a display bin overflowing with keychains. 

“Yukine!” Hiyori ordered, pointing at the god. “Right!” The boy replied dashing forward. “Borderline!” Extending two fingers and slicing them through the air, he created a glowing barrier in front of the display bin, causing Yato to yelp and jolt back.

“What was that for?” He growled at them. Yukine grinned smugly. “If you won’t stop spending all our money on stupid shit, you need a chaperone when you shop.” 

Yato looked hurt, then angry. “I was just getting some ready-made meals because they’re so cheap here!” He raised his other hand and shook it in demonstration, clearly displaying the shrink-wrapped bento boxes he clutched. Before his shinki could stutter out an apology, he drew something from his pocket and added gleefully, “and just this one lucky charm, because this lotto I entered is announcing the winner today and-” With an eye roll, Hiyori snatched the small cat keychain from where it dangled from his finger and dashed it to the floor, stomping on it. Yato blanched.

“Uh, Hiyori! I hadn’t paid for that yet.” 

Before she could reply, an altogether too cheerful voice came from directly behind her shoulder. “This store has a ‘you break it, you buy it’ policy, you know.” Jumping a foot in the air, the high school girl whirled around, confronted by a man dressed in traditional clothing and a large, ridiculous striped hat that shadowed half his face, apparently the owner. She immediately went red. 

“Ah, I’m so sorry! Of course I’ll pay for it! I’m really not a delinquent, I swear! Let me just get my walle-” She stopped fumbling at her pockets, face going pale. She turned to Yukine with a look of horror and whispered “I left my wallet with my body.” 

“But wait”, she murmured, shame rapidly becoming confusion. Glancing warily at the man, she dragged the other two into a huddle. “Why can he see my spirit form? I thought only gods could be seen by humans, and only when you wanted them to?” All three glanced back at the shopkeeper standing a few feet away, smiling patiently with his hands in his pockets. Yato waved him off, unconcerned. “He probably has some ability to perceive the Far Shore. I wouldn’t worry about it.” Yukine tugged on her sleeve, getting anxious and whispering overly loud, “Let’s just make a run for it. Once he’s not looking at us, he’ll probably forget we were here.”

“Good idea!” Yato shouted, not bothering in the slightest to keep his voice down, while punching the air. “I’ll cause a distraction!” He immediately proceeded to push over a display of foreign candy, and the three took off running for the door. “Is this really okay?” Hiyori cried, but she didn’t stop.

Yukine was in the lead, so he was the first to crash face-first into the barrier that suddenly sprang up across the entryway. Yato skidded to a stop and Hiyori crashed into him, bouncing off his shoulder, before being knocked to the floor as Yukine tripped backwards over her, knocking the back of his skull into her nose. 

“Ow, ow, owwww…” She rubbed her face in pain before squinting up at the enormous man in a blue shop apron now standing over her. Yato crouched down next to her, grabbing her shoulder while Yukine edged as far behind the two of them as he could. “That’s not a borderline,” he whispered in confusion. “What is it?” 

“It’s bakudo,” came the shopkeeper’s voice from where he remained standing behind them. "Thank you, Tessai." Yato pulled Hiyori to her feet, warily turning to face the man. Yukine hovered, unsure whether to keep his eyes on the man in green or the newcomer. 

“Since I didn’t get the chance to say it before, welcome to Urahara Shoten! Your friendly neighborhood convenience store, and,” the man in green flung his arms wide, encompassing in the gesture all the goods on the shelves, “the one and only importer of goods from Soul Society in Karakura.” 

"I must admit, when you stopped in a few weeks ago, I was hoping you’d return. I don’t often get customers as interesting as you.” His eyes narrowed but the smile remained on his face. “I have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this why there was no Chappy available for Rukia, and she got stuck with that duck? Maybe!


	2. The Ishidas and the Ikis Have Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a coincidence that Uryu's dad, Ichigo's dad, and Hiyori's dad are all doctors? Probably! But all the more reason for them to know each other outside of the whole spirit world stuff.

They’d been hollering and waving outside the window of the dining room for only about a minute or so, but it felt significantly longer. One was young, maybe only 13 or 14, with brassy blonde hair and an oversized jacket. The other was a bit older than Uryu - he looked to be about college-aged or a recent graduate, with black hair pulled back into a short, high ponytail, startlingly blue eyes, and a truly appalling tracksuit. They obviously weren’t related, and the age gap made them unlikely to be friends, so it was unclear what exactly they had in common with each other. Aside from his father’s friend’s daughter, that is. 

“Hiyori! Hey, Hiyori! Hiyori! Hiyooori!” The blonde pressed his face against the glass in an effort to see inside better. “Can she hear us, do you think? Maybe the glass is too thick.” 

The girl in question calmly continued eating, offering some polite answer to a question about her studies. He’d think she actually couldn’t hear them if it wasn’t for the white-knuckled grip she kept on the steak knife. 

There was one other thing the two men outside had in common: they were both spirits. At the very least, the blonde one was. The other, he wasn’t as sure. The black-haired one slammed his palm against the glass a few times, making a series of loud bangs, but no one either in the house or on the street looked up. Except Hiyori. She finally whipped her head around to glare.

“What is it, Hiyori dear?” “Ah ha ha, nothing. Sorry.” Takamasa Iki was an old medical school classmate of Ryuken Ishida. Uryu’s presence had been a requirement at this dinner, to put on a good face in front of his father's peer. 

“Hiyori, come outside! We need to talk to you!” 

Hiyori turned her chair slightly away from the window. He admired her resolve. They really were quite obnoxious. In fact, they drowned out the conversation at the table, making it difficult to follow the discussion. It was a good thing his father didn’t expect him to contribute. 

After letting the commotion go on for another minute or so, Hiyori took a deep breath, and carefully pushed her plate and utensils to the side. “Hiyori?” her mother questioned. 

“I’m not feeling well. Sorry Mom, Dad, Mr. Ishida, Uryu.” She gave a brief head bob of a bow, and then collapsed, head crashing onto the table with a distressing thump and arms falling to dangle limply at her sides. Ryuken shot up from his chair and made his way around the table before anyone else could react, placing a finger on her neck to check her pulse and steadying her before she slumped out of her chair. 

“Oh, honey,” Sayuri Iki gasped. It wasn’t a surprised sound, however. More sad than anything. Her father sighed, and took Ryuken’s place at his daughter's side, shifting her until she rested more comfortably. “I apologize, Ryuken. My daughter was struck by a bus on her way home from school last year, and while she recovered without any major injuries, the event seems to have triggered an onset of narcolepsy. Nothing in my experience explains it, but that’s just another thing we’ve been living with.” 

Ryuken raised an eyebrow. “Can she usually tell when it’s coming on, like just now?” Her father shook his head. “No, normally there’s no warning.” 

“And this happens often?” Her mother nods. “Several times a week! In class, in the middle of the street - It honestly worries me. I’d like her to come straight home after school, where at least I know she’ll be safe when it happens, but she assures me she’s always with friends who will keep an eye on her. I suppose it’s too much to expect a girl her age to stay home.”

As alarming as the girl suddenly collapsing was, what was more alarming was her double, which had gotten up from the chair and started making its way to the window unnoticed. A transparent pink spirit cord waved behind her like a tail, the end blurring away as it stretched the farther she walked from her body. She eased the window open, glancing back at her distracted parents, gave an annoyed huff and hopped out. It was all Uryu could do not to blatantly stare, when it was clear she wasn’t expecting anyone to be able to see her or hear her. How had she left her living body like that without any kind of device? Evidently his father had more practice at ignoring spiritual phenomenon because his eyes never once looked toward the window, although he must have been just as aware as Uryu. 

From outside, he could hear only one half of the conversation as the trio moved further away. Hiyori’s words were a little faint, but the combination of exasperation and fondness came through loud and clear. 

“What are you doing here? How did you even find me?” Good question. The Ikis didn’t live in Karakura.

“Well...okay. I’ve already totally embarrassed myself in front of Mr. Ishida so I don’t really think I could face him again right away anyway. But let’s be quick so I’ll have time to apologize to him before my parents and I leave!” A guest fainting usually signaled the end of the night, in Uryu’s opinion. How long was she planning on disappearing for?

“No, I think it’ll be okay. Mr. Ishida is really great! He runs a hospital too, and he’s offered to help us out after that huge disaster with your dad.” His father, being helpful without an ulterior motive? Unlikely. And whose dad? Was one of the spirits a deceased patient with angry relatives threatening to sue? 

“Of course I don’t blame you! You saved the day! It’s a good thing I have a god of fortune on my side for when disaster strikes.” She couldn’t mean an actual god...could she? No, the first part sounded sincere, but that second part sounded like playful teasing. 

“Uryu, why don’t you take Ms. Iki up to the guest bedroom to recover?” The mental whiplash from switching between trying to follow the conversation outside to the people in front of him made Uryu pause a little longer than was probably polite. 

“Of course.” He got up and walked to the other side of the table, hefting the unoccupied body of the Iki daughter into a princess carry and began to make his way out of the room. “And Uryu, you can retire to your room to complete your homework after. The Ikis and I will be talking business for a while.” 

Half-turning and nodding to acknowledge he heard, Uryu made his way to the stairs. This worked out perfectly. He could sneak out and follow Hiyori and her weird spirit friends to see what they were up to. Was that why his father had given him such an easy excuse to do so? Damn it. He hated being manipulated, even if it worked out in his favor.

He paused on the stairs when he heard his name drifting from the dining room. “Uryu is so strong!” That was Mrs. Iki. “Yes, my son practices archery regularly.” “Really? How interesting. You know, my mother keeps a bow and arrow in her bedroom closet. I asked her about it once, and she told me it was for self-defense. I asked if she was planning on shooting a burglar, and she replied it was for the evil spirits lurking outside her house!” Mrs. Iki laughed and Uryu almost dropped Hiyori in shock. What was going on here? Were the Ikis part quincy?


	3. Yato Finds the Wrong Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yato and Hiyori's first meeting goes very slightly differently.

Ingrained animal instinct and personal experience both told the tiny predator the same thing - that something much larger and more dangerous was watching. Looking up from its grooming, the cat saw a young man in a black tracksuit staring intently. With another glance down at the piece of paper in his hand and an annoyed look on his face, he shoved the lost poster into his pocket before slowly approaching in a slight crouch with his arms outstretched. 

“Milord?” he called out in a soft, falsely-cheerful voice. “Come here, Milord.” The cat sat up on the stoop and gave him a suspicious look. He smirked back at it. 

“That’s it, stay right there you dumb cat,” he said in the same friendly voice. With a glare, the cat jumped down from the stoop and took off at a brisk trot down the sidewalk, easily weaving through the crowd. “Hey!” A quick glance over its shoulder showed the man following at something halfway a jog, the pedestrians on the sidewalk easily and subconsciously parting for him despite his pushing in the opposite direction of the general flow of foot traffic.

“Stop! Get back here!” A low, frustrated groan followed the shout, then a loud ooph. The cat paused on the curb. The tracksuit-wearing man had collided with a young girl in a high school uniform and a long pink scarf. Her friends continued down the sidewalk, unnoticing. While she stammered out an apology, he shifted around her, eyes searching out the flash of black along the ground. The cat’s ears flattened against its skull, and it darted out across the street. 

“Don’t you run from me!” the man shouted, drowning out the shocked “hey!” from the girl behind him. With an impressive burst of speed, he leaned down and snatched the small black cat from the ground mid-stride. “Gotcha!” 

His triumphant grin became wide-eyed shock as a hard shove from behind sent him and his prize tumbling into the gutter on the far side of the street. His arms automatically tightened their hold on the cat, while he curved his body around it to protect it from the fall.

Once he'd gotten a foot underneath himself again in a half crouch, the man shuffled around, shouting angrily. “What’s the big idea?” Both man and cat took in the girl he’d run into just moments before, eyes simultaneously widening. 

‘What were you thinking?” she demanded in return, looking flustered. “It’s dangerous to jump into traffic! You could have died!”

His eyes wouldn’t meet hers. “Uh, funny you should mention that,” he began, but the girl wouldn’t be deterred. “Well?” He sat up a bit straighter and lifted the cat in answer, which shook off its shock and gave a meow as if on cue. It squirmed a bit, craning its neck to look around her. 

“Oh!” She looked surprised, recognition flashing in her eyes. “Milord?”

“You know this cat?” “No, but I’ve seen the lost posters up around this block...oh, well, no - this isn’t the same cat after all, is it?” she added, fingers briefly resting on her chin in thought. 

He scowled. “What do you mean it isn’t the same cat?” He switched to a one-armed grip so he could reach into a pocket and pull out the flyer. Now his arm wrapped around the cat’s belly under its forelegs, leaving the rest of it to dangle. His arm tucked in tight to his chest, giving the cat no space to maneuver either over or under, despite its frantic wriggling. Its hind legs helplessly kicked at the air without finding leverage as it yowled its displeasure. 

The girl stumbled a bit, and sank to her knees. “Oh,” she said, struggling to lift her hand to her head. “That’s the adrenaline rush leaving, then? I feel a bit...heavy...” She blinked as a flyer was thrust in front of her face. 

“See? Black cat, yellow eyes,” the man declared as if the matter was closed, completely unaffected by his near-brush with death. The cat in question gave up struggling with an air of resignation and prepared to wait the conversation out. Recovering from whatever dizzy spell had hit her just as rapidly as it had first come on, the girl took the flyer and flipped it back around to face him, pointing at the text at the bottom. “Yeah, but the lost cat is male. This one is clearly female.”

Placing the flyer on the ground, she lifted the cat away from him, turning it to face him and pulling its tail away from its body. “See? Ow!” The cat released its jaws from where it had just clamped them around the girl’s wrist, and dashed a few yards away at speed before turning to face them again, waving its tail back and forth in an irritated manner. But it seemed too curious to leave. 

“Aaarrrggg,” the man flopped onto his back and rubbed his hands over his face. “All day searching, and I still haven’t found the right one?” One hand flopped down and slid into his pocket. It came out again holding something small, flat, and round - a token or coin of some sort. He turned his head to stare at it as he idly rubbed it between his fingers. 

The girl got to her feet and brushed off her skirt. “I guess not, sorry.” An awkward silence followed for a beat before she continued. "A good deed is always worth doing, but aren't lost cats more of a 'if you happen to see him' type of thing? Didn't you have to go to work today?" He groaned again in response. 

“I am working. I answered the prayer, so I don't have a choice.” She laughed nervously, before jerking a thumb behind her. “Okay. Well, I’m going to go now. Try not to jump into traffic again.”

“About that.” He stood as well, his gaze oddly intense before breaking into a smile tinged with something she couldn’t quite read. “I really could have dodged that bus, but I’ve never had a mortal help me before, so how about I offer some advice in exchange?” So saying, he stepped closer. She leaned away, suddenly fearful, but he only gestured behind her. 

Turning, the rest of the world suddenly seemed to come back into focus. She’d been so distracted by the cat and the conversation with the utterly strange and slightly creepy guy that she hadn’t heard- 

“Hiyori, please, hang in there!” Her friends screaming, worried voices, and the distant but rapidly approaching wail of an ambulance. And collapsed on the ground in front of the now stopped bus, was her body. 

“You’ll be okay," she heard him say. "A short brush with the Far Shore is usually pretty easy to shake off, but you’re straddling the line now. If you drop out of your body again, don’t wander too far if you want to stay attached. That spirit cord will stretch pretty far, but if it breaks, you’ll be stuck like that forever.” 

He walked a few steps away, before pausing. “We’re even now, you hear? Have a nice life, Hiyori.” 

She didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure if this was even real. Was she dead? Was this a dream? She felt faint. The spirit form of Hiyori Iki stumbled toward the body on the ground and reached out with a trembling hand. As soon as the two touched, the spirit form disappeared. The body on the ground didn't sit up with a sudden gasp of air. It didn't move at all, but the skin was perhaps not as pale as it had been a moment before. 

The black cat’s eyes narrowed from where it still watched on the sidewalk. The man, or not-a-man, was already making his way down the block, heading away from the busier street and into a residential area. He kicked a rock, scrubbed a hand through his hair, then began calling out, “Milord! Come out, come out, wherever you are!” 

After taking note of the girl's name, and the name of the hospital printed on the side of the ambulance, Yoruichi slunk after him, making sure to stay out of sight.


	4. Getting to Hueco Mundo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So hollows can open gargantas as an innate ability, but Urahara had to use a combination of technology and spells to do the same. Here's supposing he couldn't manage it, and needed to find another way to get Ichigo and the boys there.

“Are you all sure this is what you want to do? It will be dangerous, you’ll have no help from Soul Society, and I have no way to bring you back once you find her.” Kisuke Urahara had been waiting for them in front of his shop when they arrived, standing with both hands folded on top of the cane that hid his zanpakuto, looking as serious as they’d ever known him to be.

The three teenagers exchanged a brief glance, but there was no hesitation in their eyes, only grim determination. Ichigo stepped forward, always the leader - the one who brought them all together.

“Cut the ‘are you sure’ bullshit and stop wasting time, Hat-and-Clogs. We’re going to rescue Orihime, no matter what.”

The former shinigami captain just gave a knowing smile. “I have no doubt that you will. If anyone could, it would be the three 'ryoka' who brought the Seireitei to its knees.”

"Four," came the reply from Chad.

Uryu nodded his agreement. "Inoue was there with us too, don't forget that. We couldn't have rescued Kuchiki without her, so now it's time for us to return the favor."

Ichigo took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, Ishida and Chad stopping to stand on either side of him. “We’re sure. We're ready. Open the garganta.”

The shopkeeper’s grin stayed steady. “I can’t.”

“What?!” Frustration and hurt warred for real estate on Ichigo’s face. “You just said-” Urahara raised a hand in a gesture to stop while Chad pulled Ichigo back from punching the man. Uryu simply adjusted his glasses, but a note of genuine anger crept its way into his normally placidly condescending tone as he asked, “What game are you playing, shinigami? Why invite us here at all?”

“I said I can’t open a garganta, not that I couldn’t get you into Hueco Mundo.” The man motioned them inside, reminding them the street probably wasn’t the proper place to be holding this conversation where anyone could overhear. As he lead them through the shop into the back room, he explained, “I hold myself partially responsible for Orihime’s capture. I was too concerned with her feelings and too passive about protecting her. That's why I’m prepared to help in any way I can. In this case," he stared up at them from the shadow of his ever-present hat, "that means calling in a favor from a friend.”

\-----

The orange-haired teen’s first reaction was to snort. “You have friends?” His amusement at Urahara’s frown turned to consideration. “You wouldn’t be friends with a hollow, so...who else can open gargantas?” A glance over each shoulder at Uryu and Chad provided him only with a shrug. “Another visored?”

Urahara’s signature fan came out to flutter at his mouth. “Not quite, Ichigo. You have a lot to learn about the spirit world still. There’s so much more out there than the kinds of souls you are familiar with. Take Captain Komamura, for instance.”

“Komamura?” That didn’t exactly clear things up, going by the total lack of recognition on the teen’s face.

“The wolf-headed shinigami captain,” Chad helpfully provided.

Ichigo immediately lit up with a grin. “So at least one captain is on our side after all!” He looked around, as if expecting the nearly nine-and-a-half foot tall bipedal sword-carrying wolfman to step out from behind the umbrella stand and wave hello.

Urahara blew out a rueful sigh. The way that boy wore his heart on his sleeve was going to get him into trouble that not even his frankly alarming amount of spiritual pressure could get him out of. Or maybe not, Urahara conceded. So far, it had done a good job of impressing those who should have been his enemies enough to turn them to allies. But tentative allies at best, and that wasn't good enough.

“No, I spoke truthfully the first time. No one associated with the Gotei 13 will be accompanying you on this rescue mission.” Ichigo’s face dropped.

“Then what-”

“Honestly, Ichigo,” Uryu cut in. “Both hollows and shinigami are born from human souls. Urahara is implying that whoever he is introducing us to has non-human origins.” His slight blush betrayed he wasn’t as confident in his answer as his voice made him out to be.

“You mean yokai,” Chad said, in a tone of soft wonder.

Urahara grinned, first pointing a finger out at Uryu, then bringing it back in to form a large ‘x’ with his arms. “Yes to the first, no to the second.”

“So how did you meet this guy, whatever he is?” Ichigo asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Oh, you know how it is,” the shopkeeper demurred. “Powerful spiritual beings, banished to the human world by peers afraid of our abilities, taking up the life of a small business owner…”

“Uh, I'm not sure anyone but you knows how that is. But quite frankly, you're not making this guy sound great. We might be better off finding some other way.” By the grimace on the quincy’s face, and the uneasy shifting of the quieter, muscular boy, they both agreed. Best to usher them along quick, Kisuke thought, clapping his hands together decisively.

“In any case, she’s already agreed to help us, so I’ve arranged for us to meet in a secluded area outside of tow-”

“Kisuki!” The door slid open with a loud bang, admitting a young woman with vibrantly pink hair, wearing a replica of Urahara’s own signature bucket hat and inverted captain’s haori in pink. When she flung her arms wide for a flying tackle-hug, a white oxford shirt and ruffled pink plaid skirt were revealed underneath.

“Kisuki?” Ichigo whispered incredulously from the side, before having to cover his mouth and nose to muffle his laughter. Uryu elbowed him in the side, but not before Ichigo noticed his mouth twitching upward as well.

“Kofu! How wonderful to see you! You look resplendent!” Kisuke managed to squeak out from the tight squeeze the new arrival had him in.

“I wore it just for you!” she giggled, before letting go and doing a twirl, so Urahara might better admire her outfit from every angle. Even before the drapes of the fabric fell flat again, a tall and menacing man with shaggy, slicked-back black hair and dark red eyes stepped between them. Incongruously, the newcomer was also wearing a pink shirt.

He went for a punch rather than a hug, however. “That’s Lady Kofuku to you! Don’t be so familiar with her!”

“Of course, of course.” Urahara had managed to raise Benihime’s scabbard in time to block the blow. Once assured another strike wasn’t coming, he swapped out the cane for his fan and covered his face once again. This time, however, it struck the young substitute soul reaper as less of an attempt to be playful or annoying and instead was genuinely an attempt to hide his face.

“Lady Kofuku, I’m very grateful you’ve agreed to help us, but why did you come here?” A bit of strain was present in his voice, though the friendly politeness never wavered. “I did ask you to meet me outside of town. It simply isn’t safe to open a vent in such a small space.”

“What are you talking about, Hat-and-Clogs?” Now that Urahara’s ‘powerful spiritual being’ was revealed to be a rather ditzy girl dressed all in pink, Ichigo seemed to have lost all previous apprehension. This, despite having met Yachiru Kusajishi before. “Let’s just use the secret underground training room like we did with the senkaimon.”

The girl in pink instantly perked up. “Secret underground training room? Oh, Kisuki, you shouldn’t have!” She instantly began flitting around the room, lifting rugs, peering under furniture, and opening doors in search of the entrance. Kisuke could only watch in paralyzed horror, one hand feebly stretched out in front of him, fingers twitching like a marionette. “Please - don’t touch anything.”

Tessai appeared, as if summoned by the approaching doom, and giving a deep bow, gestured through a doorway. “Right this way, Lady Kofuku.” With a smile, she went through, hands swinging at her sides, her glowering companion following close behind her. Curiously, the three teenagers saw Urahara vehemently mouth the words “Straight there. No stopping” to his friend and employee as soon as their backs were turned. Tessai nodded solemnly, and then followed them out of the room.

“Is she really that dangerous?” Ichigo asked, surprised. Urahara grimaced.

“Yes, and no. She wouldn’t hurt a fly - intentionally.” Beginning to follow after the girl, he added breezily, and somewhat under his breath, “it’s the things she unintentionally causes to happen around her that you need to be worried about.”

They all emerged into the next room, to see Tessai leaning over the trapdoor entrance, presumably watching the couple’s progress down the ladder.

“Are they at the bottom?” Tessai nodded. “Okay,” Urahara stated, lifting his shoulders and spreading his hands in a ‘sorry I didn’t mention this earlier, what can you do’ shrug. “A little foreknowledge about our friend here.”

“Your friend, you mean. You seemed awfully chummy earlier,” Ichigo cut in.

Urahara’s smile was a bit strained. “Yes,” he coughed. “My friend. Her name isn’t really Kofuku. It’s Bin-”

He was interrupted, this time, by the sudden and complete collapse of the floor.

\-----

While not as bad as - to use a random example - being shot through the barrier surrounding the Seireitei in a giant cannonball stuffed full of your friends and recent acquaintances and held together solely with a great deal of concentration - unexpectedly falling ninety feet through the open air, surrounded by floorboards, furniture, your equally freaked out friends and colleagues, and most of the contents of a convenience store, was still not anyone’s idea of the fun kind of adrenaline rush.

As the dust settled, Ichigo sat up coughing, an avalanche of potato chip bags sliding off of him. He looked around to see Kofuku standing nearby looking worried while her companion merely looked apologetic. It was when he turned to the girl and said, “this is why I don’t take you anywhere,” that Ichigo exploded.

“What’s the big idea, huh? I thought you were Urahara’s friend, and now you’re destroying the shop and trying to kill us?!” In an instant Ichigo had Zangetsu out and ready to swing, but the man in the pink shirt was quicker in slashing two fingers out in front of him, casting some kind of bakudo spell and creating a glowing barrier between them.

“Now, now, Ichigo, please calm down.” This came from Urahara. Ichigo saw that Chad had brushed off being nearly crushed by a freezer unit and was now helping Uryu up from the ground with an extended hand. Tessai, equally as large and seemingly immune to large objects falling on top of him, had opted to simply lift Urahara out of the rubble by the back of his coat, where he now dangled, covered in dust.

Urahara steepled his fingers together and went on. “What I was saying before? Kofuku here is actually Binbougami, the goddess of poverty. She brings misfortune to anyone she favors. She did not-” Urahara gritted his teeth, his eyes screaming his dismay and frustration through his smile, “-purposefully destroy my shop and home. And look,” he gestured with false cheer. “Now that everything I own is down here, I don’t have to worry about moving into another space while conducting repairs.”

As Ichigo and his friends tried to process this in the stunned silence that followed, Urahara glanced up and added, “Uh, Tessai, you may place me down now.”

\-----

Once everyone was back on their feet, Binbougami, holding her hands securely behind her back, put in, “You know, Kisuki asked me to help out some friends of his, but I never got your names! You know who I am now, of course, but please call me Kofuku!”

Kisuke grinned, genuinely amused now. “My, my, Ichigo! Drawing your sword on someone when you haven’t even introduced yourself yet? Even Aizen’s arrancar had better manners than that!” Blushing, Ichigo and his friends hurriedly introduced themselves, but that left one unknown still in the room.

“What about you?” Uryu asked, looking at the tall man standing next to the goddess of poverty. “You haven’t introduced yourself yet.”

“That’s the man of the hour!” Kisuke butted in before the man could do more than open his mouth. “Kokki! The one who’s going to get you into Hueco Mundo, I mean.”

Ichigo looked between them, confused. “I thought Binbou-, sorry, I meant Kofuku, was going to get us in.”

Kokki grunted, then jerked a thumb into his chest. “The name’s Daikoku. I’m Kokki as Kofuku’s divine instrument. Kofuku needs me to open vents, but there’s no Kokki without Kofuku.” His protective stance in front of his goddess made it clear he meant that in more ways than one.

“Divine instrument,” Chad mused aloud. “You mean a tool or weapon of some kind.”

Uryu’s eyes lit up in understanding as well. “And you belong to her?” He asked, gesturing with his head towards Kofuku to confirm his theory, looking like he wanted to get out a pad of paper to take notes.

Ichigo was the last to get it, but it was obvious when the lightbulb went off in his head because of the way his jaw dropped. “What?” He staggered half a step back, pointing at him. “You’re a zanpakuto?”

Daikoku frowned. “A what? Weren’t you listening? I’m a divine instrument - a shinki - not a whatever-you-just-said.”

Urahara swanned in between the two groups, gesturing grandly around Daikoku, showing him off like he was the lovely assistant on a game show and Daikoku the prize the contestant had just won. “It’s true! Shinki, despite serving the same function as a zanpakuto, are not the same." Ichigo scowled at the scientific rapture enveloping his sometimes mentor, “It's really quite fascinating.”

“Can you tell me what a zanpakuto is?” he asked Ichigo, switching to lecture mode.

“What do you mean, what’s a zanpakuto? It’s a shinigami’s sword!” As Urahara rolled his hand in a ‘go on’ gesture, Ichigo continued. “Well, it’s also part of a shinigami’s soul, right? But, also a spirit, I guess? I mean, Zangetsu is part of me, and I can feel him, but he’s his own person too, and-”

“All right, that’s enough. Yes, good job, Ichigo. You get an ‘A’ for the day.”

The redhead stomped angrily. “Give me a break, Hat-and-Clogs! I didn’t go to school for this stuff, and since you taught me, if I got the answer wrong it’s because you’re a shitty teacher!”

Urahara turned his face to one side, covering it with one hand, and waved the other in an exaggerated pantomime of fighting off a blush. “Oh, Ichigo. You say the nicest things. Anyway, shinigami need zanpakuto to fight hollows, just like quincy,” he added, nodded at Uryu, “must learn how to make arrows from reishi, because ordinary weapons don’t work on spiritual beings. So gods too, need special weapons with which to fight. But gods don’t have souls, and can't manifest zanpakuto spirits. So their weapons are made from human souls.”

At this statement, the spiritual pressure in the underground chamber began to rise and grow uncomfortable. It was coming from Uryu. One hand had clenched into a fist at his side, while the other manifested his bow. Upon noticing the attention on him, he lifted the bow, but did not nock it yet.

"That's barbaric. Enslaving human souls, so they aren't safe from being playthings even after death? Maybe hollows aren't the only things the quincies should have been concerned about." Urahara stepped in front of the boy. When he replied, it was with all levity gone from his voice, looking him directly in the eyes.

“It’s not like that at all, Uryu. It’s considered a great honor to be chosen as a divine instrument, and shinki are free to leave their god’s service whenever they choose.” Uryu scoffed.

“Why would anyone choose to stay with a goddess who brings misfortune to anyone she favors?” The words were spoken to Kisuke, but clearly directed at Daikoku.

Peering around the shinigami, the quincy and his friends were shocked to see the divine instrument in question on his knees, arms wrapped around Kofuku's waist while she giggled and he blubbered.

“I would never leave my lady! She’s the only one for me. Never dismiss me, Kofuku! I'll serve you until the end of eternity!”

Urahara siddled over and stage-whispered behind his fan, “don't worry about him. As long as Daikoku wears the name Kofuku gave him, he’s immune to her bad luck ability, like a clown fish that’s immune to the sting of the sea anemones it lives inside!”

"Anyway, anyway, we’ve wasted enough time here. Begin whenever you are ready, Lady Kofuku.” She nodded and pushed her shinki away, who stood immediately as though he hadn't just been making a lovesick fool of himself moments before.

“Come, Kokki!” In a flash of light, Daikoku disappeared, and in his place was a black fan. Kofuku caught it out of the air and flipped it open with a grin. Now her Urahara impression was complete.

Ichigo tilted his head to the side in confusion. “He’s not a sword?”

“Even in our one visit to Soul Society, we saw plenty of soul reapers whose unsealed zanpakuto weren’t swords,” Uryu pointed out. “The very first person you fought had an axe! And I had to fight a captain whose zanpakuto was some horrible worm-baby!”

“Yeah, you’re right," Ichigo conceded. "Compared to Kurotsuchi’s, a fan is pretty normal. I just meant,” he paused, not sure how to complete that sentence without offending either party. “It’s not a weapon?”

“Ha, ha, that’s because you’ve never seen me use him,” Kofuku laughed, the grin on her face a little less bubbly, and a lot more maniacal. In fact, between the pink hair and the grin, Ichigo was starting to sweat in some pavlovian flashback to the fight with Kenpachi.

“I suggest you get your weapons out now,” Urahara announced through a megaphone. The three teens blanched, noticing the shopkeeper and Tessai now stood clear across the training room, having shunpoed away as soon as Kofuku summoned Kokki. Kisuke also already had Benihime out, naked steel glinting in the artificial sunlight. They hurriedly pulled out their own weapons as suggested, or in Chad’s case, summoned up his armored arm.

“There will be far more...hmmm, I suppose turbulence is the word I’m looking for, than you’re used to, but it will be safe as long as you don't linger. Good luck, gentlemen.” Kisuke announced before dropping the megaphone, and stepping behind a barrier Tessai summoned up.

“Ready?” Kofuku asked. They all nodded. “Good. Usually my vents open to Hell or the Underworld, but I’m pretty sure I can get Hueco Mundo if I'm really trying.”

“Wait, what?”

Too late. “Bore!” So shouting, Kofuku drove Kokki downward in a fierce strike, sending out a concussive blast of air far larger and stronger than anything the tiny fan should have been able to produce. And the world tore open. And the other side began to pour out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yato definitely made the Urahara cosplay outfit for Kofuku.


	5. Ichigo Requests Yato's Services

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So when Ichigo flees his house after Tsukishima's visit, let's imagine he runs into Ginjo before his boss, for purposes of "it would be more convenient for him to already have that information in this scene."

“Can you do it? Can you really kill Tsukishima with no guarantees it will fix things?’

The look on Ginjo’s face was frightening, like he knew he would be disappointed by Ichigo’s answer, and not because he was sure it would be ‘yes’. 

Ichigo was angry. Angry, and scared – more than he’d ever been. But he wasn’t sure he could do it. Tsukishima wasn’t a hollow who could be purified, nor was he like Aizen, who threatened all of Soul Society and Karakura. They were talking about killing a human. His powers were strange and cruel, and the thought of letting him get away with what he’d done made Ichigo sick to his stomach. But could he kill to protect his friends and family from this, when they might not want to be protected? When they might hate him and think him a monster for doing so? 

“I...need to think.”

Ginjo stared at him intently, searching for something in his expression. Ichigo had the distinct impression he was found lacking, but nevertheless Ginjo eventually gave a slow nod.

“Okay. You can’t go into this fight without your whole heart. But keep in mind we don’t have a lot of time before he puts whatever his plan is into motion.” Ginjo turned his head toward the door warily, trying to sense for the spiritual pressure of any of the others nearby. “We’ll regroup later. Don’t make yourself a target.” Then he turned and left. 

––––––––––

Unsure what to do, where to go, or who to trust, Ichigo’s feet carried him to the one place in his life completely free of any association with shinigami, quincy, visords, or fullbringers. Lost in his thoughts, he only noticed where he was when he finally arrived and glanced up: the odd jobs shop where he’d been working part-time since losing his powers, Unagiya.

At least, that’s what the sign was supposed to say. Ichigo’s eyes widened in surprise. The shopfront had been vandalized. Splashed in huge letters across the front of the building was the name Yato, followed by a phone number. In smaller, increasingly cramped writing – the vandal evidently hadn’t planned enough space for anything but his name and presumably real contact information, what an idiot – read “I will solve all your problems better than”, punctuated with a looping arrow pointing back up to the shop name. 

“Well, at least people will know it’s not an eel shop now,” Ichigo huffed to himself with a slightly hysterical edge to his voice. It was such an ordinary thing to happen in the midst of all this supernatural insanity that his brain wasn’t sure how to process it. 

The instinctual shock and annoyance he felt at the sight broke through his stress and helplessness like a rock through a windowpane, leaving his emotions a sharp, jumbled mess. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or rage. Now more than ever he wanted to retreat into his inner world and talk with Zangetsu. The presence of the older spirit was always grounding. He'd even take the presence of his hollow, if it meant he had a way to stop Tsukishima.

“Ichigo? Is that you?” He tore his eyes away from the graffiti to see his boss, Ikumi Unagiya, poking her head out the door. He must have looked quite the sight, because she hurriedly came outside and drew him into a hug. 

“What’s wrong?” He gave a weak chuckle, then pushed her away gently.

“Uh, it’s nothing.” At her stern glare, he continued, “nothing you can help me with. I just...had a bad argument with my friends.” 

She looked unconvinced, but willing to let it go. In his time working for her, he’d made it clear he didn’t like talking about his personal life. Still, he felt the need to change the subject fast, before he actually had a breakdown in front of her. 

“Have you seen the sign?” 

“What?” Successfully distracted, she glanced up at the sign hanging over her shop with a small, puzzled frown.

“It’s been vandalized!” He was surprised she hadn’t seen it herself when she opened up this morning. Had they done it in broad daylight while she'd been inside? “The competition spray-painted their ad over it.” 

“Those dirty rats!” Ikumi exclaimed, clenching a fist and fire in her eyes. “Who was it? Ebiya?” Ichigo frowned. 

“Uh,” he glanced up at the spray paint, not sure why she couldn’t do so herself. “It just says Yato, no last name.” 

“Hmm, must be new. That’s why he’s trying to poach our business.” She tapped her chin in thought. “Well, thanks for washing it off. You can't even tell anymore.” She clapped him on the back in gratitude a little harder than she needed to, sending him swaying on his feet. 

“Take the rest of the day. Go see a movie or something; get yourself together so you don’t scare off customers with that face.” Right before she went back into the shop, she turned to face him one last time and pointed a finger at his face. “But you better be back here and in a working mood tomorrow!” 

“But I didn’t wash-!” The door shut before he could finish his reply. In the stunned silence that followed, a slow hope began to build as he glanced back and forth between the closed door and the scrawled message over his head. “If she can’t see it...could it be that same weird reishi paint Urahara uses for his blood messages?” 

He paced back and forth in front of the sign, palming his phone and flipping it over and over again in his hand. This Yato person promised the solution to all his problems, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it if it wasn’t real. His mind began constructing outlandish scenarios for how he might humiliate himself by making the call. 

Maybe Ikumi was red-green colorblind and that’s why she couldn’t see the paint? Maybe it was Jinta trying to start up his own business under an assumed name so Urahara wouldn’t find out? Maybe he was just going totally insane and everyone else was right about Tsukishima and there was no message there at all? 

If he never called, he never had to suffer that flicker of hope going out. But if this person could save his friends when Ichigo was too weak to do so himself…

Clenching his jaw and ducking around the corner of the shop out of view from passerby, Ichigo tapped in the number and held the phone up to his ear, pulse pounding and breath frozen in his lungs.

“Hello, hello! You’ve reached the Yatogami! Thank you for choosing our fast, cheap, and reliable divine services! 

His breath escaped him in a wheeze as incredulity washed over him like a wave. “Is this for real?”

The voice on the other end was clearly indignant at that response. “Of course it’s for real! You're the one who called me, here. And if you could see the ad, that means you need my help, and I can help you.” 

“Yato...gami. Like a shinigami?” Excitement hit like a bullet train. This could be real. 

“No, not like a shinigami,” the voice scoffed, affronted and a touch evasive. “I don’t do that death and calamity stuff.” Ichigo could have sworn he heard “anymore” tagged onto the end of that sentence in an undertone. “I am a god of fortune.” 

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. He could easily picture the owner of the voice slapping their chest for emphasis with this statement in a gesture of self-importance. In his mind, the owner of the voice looked an awful lot like 'Self-Proclaimed Number One Shinigami Hater of West Rukongai' Ganju Shiba.

“Well, I’ve never heard of you.” 

Ichigo stumbled back and winced when his back roughly collided with the wall, as two bright blue eyes framed by glossy black hair now hovered inches from his own face. The face smirked, then it and the body attached to it moved back, giving him room to right himself. A cheap flip phone was still being held up to the Yatogami’s ear, so he heard the reply twice, once through the god’s mouth and again slightly delayed through his own phone. 

“I’m up-and-coming.”

Ichigo reached for a sword that wasn’t there, then stopped and rubbed both hands over his face. That wasn't shunpo. But this was real. This was happening. His thoughts spun crazily, then slammed to a halt like a stick jammed through the spokes of a bike wheel as he noticed a young blonde boy standing slightly to the side of the god – a god running an odd jobs business, what even was his life? – and glaring at him rather intently. 

“Who’s the kid?”

The Yatogami beamed, and wrapping an arm around the boy’s side, proceeded to rub his face against his cheek like a cat. “Yukine is my hafuri vessel. Not even Ebisu has one of these!" He exuded smugness. "How’s that for a god of fortune!” 

The boy squirmed a bit, then shoved the man away. He grumbled, “Bishamon has Kazuma, so it’s not like I’m that special,” but the faint smile and blush on his face told he was actually pleased at being shown off.

Ichigo shifted uncomfortably. “This isn’t some kind of weird concubine thing, is it?” The god’s smile went rigid in shock then dropped off his face, while the boy turned nearly as red as a tomato in embarrassment and shoved the man over, shouting “as if, with his sweaty hands!” 

The god glared, then called “Come, Sekki!” Ichigo watched, astounded, as a kanji tattoo on the boy’s collarbone began to glow in silver light, becoming brighter and brighter until it shrouded the boy’s entire form. When it dimmed, the boy was gone and the god was holding twin swords, a katana and a wakizashi. He lifted them, and the boy’s voice rang out from the swords. 

“I’m not a concubine, asshole. I’m a weapon, and I’ll make you regret it if you go around spreading those kind of rumors about Yato.” That explained the sweaty hands comment, at least. 

“Revert, Yuki!” With another command from the god, the swords became a boy again. Crossing his arms, the god asked, “Sufficiently convinced I’m a god?” “And not a pervert one,” the boy – Yuki or Sekki, it wasn’t clear – added. 

Ichigo nodded, quickly overcoming his shock. “So you can help me then.”

The god was back to beaming, grievances apparently forgotten at the prospect of a potential new worshipper. “I can do all kinds of stuff. Babysitting, fixing clogged drains, exorcising ghosts, finding lost pets, destroying evil spirits…” 

“What I need is little more complicated than that.”

\----------

After the abridged explanation of Tsukishima’s campaign against him, Yato looked disturbed. 

“I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard of a human with powers like those. I’m not sure how they work, and I doubt I’d be able to undo them.”

Ichigo’s heart dropped like a stone. Ginjo’s words rang in his head. ‘It’s not confusion or memory loss. It’s a fact of the past. Regardless of whether his ability can be undone or not, there’s no other way but to kill Tsukishima to sever their connection to him!’

“So my only options are to let him continue to manipulate my friends, my family, hold them hostage with their own permission! Or kill him.” His voice was despairing, but cold. 

Yukine stepped in between Ichigo and Yato, spreading his arms out protectively in front of his god. “I swore as long as I was his hafuri vessel, I’d never let Yato kill again. So if you want Yato to kill this guy for you, you can just get lost!”

Yato cut in before either of them could speak. “Those aren’t your only options.” He gave a grim smile. “You got lucky, reaching out to me instead of some other god. Your problem can be solved simply enough by cutting their ties to him. It’s practically my speciality.”

“What does that even mean?” This whole conversation was a roller coaster, with Ichigo’s emotions lifting up and crashing down, over and over at speed. 

“It won’t do exactly what you want. He’ll still exist in their past, and they won’t forget who he is.” Yato stood up from the slouch he’d fallen into listening, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “They just won’t care anymore.”

A chill swept through him. “I don’t understand. They think he saved their lives. My sisters think he’s part of our family! If they think that but don’t care, will they be able to care about anything again after you do whatever you’re proposing to do?!” Orihime, without that endless well of kindness she could grant even to arrancar. Chad, without his unshakeable loyalty to the people he loves. Tatsuki, Keigo, his sisters...it was almost worse than the alternative. 

Yato rolled his eyes. “Nothing like that. To sever one’s ties means to lose the sense of connection you share with a person, whether those are warm feelings or cold ones, leaving your knowledge of who they are and how you're related untouched. It doesn’t stop you from feeling altogether.”

Seeing Ichigo didn’t look convinced, Yato paused in thought, trying to find a better way to explain it. “You leave for school at the same time every day, right?”

“Yeah…”

“So you probably see a lot of the same faces on the way.”

“I guess so.” 

“So you could share a bus with a guy every day for years, and never once give him a second thought once he leaves your line of sight. You probably won’t have an opinion of him one way or another even while you’re sitting next to him. It doesn’t mean you’re heartless. But if you ever talked to him, and started forming ties, how you felt would change. But they'll feel about as much towards Tsukishima as they do towards a familiar stranger on a bus.”

Ichigo looked thoughtful. “Okay, I think I see what you mean.” This could work. It wasn’t ideal, not by a long shot, but… “What’s to stop him from just doing it again? I’ll be back to square one, trying to keep him from using his fullbring on everyone.” He wouldn’t be able to watch that many people at once indefinitely. 

Yato shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so. He could rebuild a relationship with them, but he’d have to start from zero, in the now. From what you described, his powers only work by inserting himself into their past so he benefits from years of connection instantly. But he already exists in their past, and those memories will be without ties.” 

Ichigo stared at the ground, deep in thought. If he were just stronger, if he were just able to have stopped any of this before it happened...his hands clenched at his sides and his lip went white from biting, but when he looked up, his eyes were clear.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

Yato looked a little apologetic. “You’ll still be the only one living in a reality different than the one that’s occurred for all the rest of them, as far as they know it.” 

“If I get my friends – my family – back, I can live with that.”

The god stretched out a hand. When Ichigo reached forward to shake it, Yato flipped his hand over palm up, and curled his fingers in several times, the universal signal for “gimme”. 

The teen reared back in bewilderment at the unexpected gesture. “What? Are you serious? I-”

In a tone as serious as the grave, Yato replied, “a five yen offering is customary.”

Staring incredulously, Ichigo felt his face split by a smile. It had been a long while since he’d felt like smiling. He doubled over in laughter, ignoring Yato's annoyed expression and impatient foot-tapping. It felt like an enormous weight had fallen off his shoulders. Maybe they'd think Tsukishima was the one to rescue Rukia, and all the rest of it, but it didn't change how they felt about him. He really could live with that. 

Wiping his eyes, Ichigo dug a coin of out his pocket and dropped it into Yato’s outstretched hand. Yukine passed over an empty sake bottle – where he’d produced it from, Ichigo wasn’t sure – that was maybe two-thirds full of coins. Yato kissed it and dropped it in with a happy grin. 

“Your prayer has been heard.” Summoning Yukine into his sword form again, Yato slung the weapon over his shoulder and announced, “okay, where’s this Tsukishima guy.”

Ichigo looked surprised. He jerked a thumb back in the direction of his house. “I figured everyone might still be at my place, so we’d go there. If not, we can at least start with Yuzu and Karin.”

Yato gave an absolutely savage grin in return. “Nah, cutting just one tie from that many people? Sounds exhausting. I thought we’d go to Tsukishima and just cut all of his instead.”


	6. Isshin Kurosaki is an Eavesdropper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wouldn't be the first time Isshin put his ear to the door while Ichigo was entertaining a female guest (get your head out of the gutter). This one's pretty short.

Isshin paused in his work filing that day’s patient intake forms and glanced up, past the ceiling of the clinic, to where he knew his son’s room to be. Urahara kept him informed on Ichigo’s hidden life as a substitute soul reaper, what the man knew at least, but Isshin had been resigned to never being able to verify for himself. But over the last few months, his own powers had unexpectedly begun to return. At first, to his shocked trepidation, and later, to his cautious joy–nursed back to life in the unconscious shelter of Ichigo’s own massive overflowing spiritual energy.

Slowly, almost unbearably slowly! Like something growing under every inch of his skin, just before the line where discomfort became pain, packaged with the crawling sensation of being watched by something unseen. But it was worth it, because he could now once again sense reiatsu well enough to identify specific individuals, even if reconnecting with Engetsu was still beyond his reach. He didn’t recognize the reiatsu that now occupied Ichigo’s room, however.

Isshin put away the paperwork and locked his desk, stretching before heading through the connecting door from the clinic to the house. Whoever was up there wasn’t especially powerful, so it must be one of Ichigo’s school friends. Sado and Inoue had some small degree of power even before Ichigo’s influence blossomed them into something apparently quite impressive, but he could feel small cores of spiritual pressure developing in the others that his son spent a lot of time around as well.

He made his way up the stairs quietly, stepping lightly and spreading his weight evenly in such as way as to ensure not a single floorboard would creak as he crept closer to Ichigo’s room. It was a girl’s voice, although he couldn’t make out many of the words. It didn’t sound like the Arisawa girl, and the spiritual pressure wasn’t powerful enough for it to be the adopted Kuchiki. But even with his ear to the door he could only make out part of the conversation.

“––still don’t really get why you think I can help you?”

       “Tatsuki suggested I talk to you. I don’t know how much–––––––––seemed to think––––––––with anything similar to this.”

“Well...that depends. What did she say?”

       “That she’s seen you––––––!”

“Yeesh, she saw that? Okay. Well...maybe? I don’t––––the same way as you. I can give you the name of a guy?”

       “I guess. I’ve already hired this–––––––seems like the real deal.”

“Yeah?”

       “But he hasn’t made any progress and I don’t think he’s really trying. There’s this other stuff going on too––––––––––––––a few times, and I’m getting good at it! But–––––––––so maybe you can just give me some tips?”

“Oh, for sure I can do that. Even before–––––––––––for years.”

Well, that was vague. It didn’t clear up whether the girl was spiritually aware, since having powers didn’t necessary follow that you'd be able to use them, or whether she was merely asking for help with something school-related.

Regardless.

“Ichigoooooo,” he crooned, tacking a few steps back to give him a running start. “KEEP THE DOOR OPEN WHEN YOU HAVE GIRLS OV-”

His signature “Daddy’s Love” kick was halted in mid strike when small soft hands, and decidedly less soft corded biceps, wrapped around his outstretched leg and heaved. He only had enough time to register, “that's not Ichigo” before his new trajectory sent him crashing face-first into the floor hard enough to bounce.

___________________________

“Wow. Wow! Did you see that?” Hiyori laughed and pumped her fist once before clasping her hands together under her chin, stars in her eyes. “I knew all those hours studying Touno’s Jungle Savate would pay off.”

She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers.

“I haven't been able to do that in my normal body before.” She grinned then at Ichigo, who blushed a bit. His mouth twitched, like it wasn't sure whether to smirk or scowl. “I think I'm getting stronger!”

The body on the floor twitched and Hiyori jumped back.

“I'm calling the cops!” she yelled loudly in its direction, whipping out her phone. Swiping past her lock screen, she gave the body a disdainful look, and flicked her eyes Ichigo’s way.

“He's dressed really flashy for a home invader,” she commented, referring to the bright Hawaiian t-shirt under a lab coat ensemble. “Do you think he escaped from a hospital nearby?” Then she blinked at a sudden realization and gripped her phone tightly in a panic.

“Oh my gosh, is anyone else home? Do you need somewhere else to stay for the night?”

Ichigo sighed and absently cleaned out an ear with his pinky.

“No, my sisters aren't home, and we're not in danger. He's not a home invader OR an escaped mental patient. He’s my dad.”

“WHAAAAT?!“

Isshin took this opportunity to roll over and sit up, thrusting out a hand.

“Isshin Kurosaki, nice to meet you!” By the look on her face, he guessed the blood gushing from his nose didn't present the friendly and harmless look he was aiming for.

“Ahhh, I'm so sorry Mr. Kurosaki! I-uh, I wasn’t expecting you to-uh...”

“Don't apologize to him!” Ichigo came to stand in front of her, glaring down at his dad. “It's his own fault. And I do worse to him all the time.”

Lacking the wall-sized memorial poster he kept in the family room, Isshin instead speed-shuffled on his knees over to his son’s desk, lunging for a small framed photo of his wife. He hugged it to his chest and began to wail.

“My precious son is growing up! But he's letting his girlfriend fight his daddy for him! Oh Masaki, where did I go wrong?”

Hiyori and Ichigo both went red for different reasons, her taking a step back and rapidly waving her hands in front of her, him taking a step forward and shaking a fist.

“No,no–we’re not dating!

“I don't need anyone's help to beat you up, you twisted freak!“

Isshin gave a soft smile as he felt Yuzu and Karin’s presence at the door downstairs, at the same moment Ichigo turned his head in the same direction.

“We’re hooooome!” they could hear Karin call, echoing up the stairs. Yuzu’s quiet “whose shoes are these?” drifted up after.

Isshin pushed himself to his feet, wiping his face with a handkerchief he drew from his coat pocket.

“Why don’t you join us for dinner, miss…?”

“Oh! Iki. Hiyori Iki.” She gave a deep bow, obviously still embarrassed by slamming him into the ground.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Iki.”


	7. Ichigo & Co. Nearly Divulge the Gods' Greatest Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is set slightly pre-series for Noragami. Before Yukine, Yato had Tomone. But between Nora (after Sakura) and Tomone, who?

Ichigo skidded to halt, Orihime and Uryu at his heels. He shook the cellphone-like hollow detector in his hand, squinting at the screen while Orihime hung over his shoulder to get a look. 

“Damn thing. It said the hollow was right here! But now it’s not showing anything.” 

Uryu dispelled his bow and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Tch. That’s what we get for trusting shinigami technology.”

Ichigo glared. “Shaddup. You said you sensed it too!” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry for dragging you guys along. At least _I_ got Kon to cover for me, but it’s not gonna look good that both of you ran off from the group on the school trip.”

Uryu looked away, folding his arms. “Don’t get concerned about _us_ Kurosaki. We make our own choices.”

A vein pulsed in Ichigo’s forehead. “Would it _kill you_ to accept some concern once in a while? And you didn’t need to come with anyway, I could’ve handled it on my own-”

Orihime snatched the device from Ichigo’s hand while he was distracted yelling at Uryu and stared down at it, placing a finger on her chin in thought. “Maybe someone else already got to it?” she wondered aloud.

“Huh?” Ichigo broke off from his rant, turning back towards Orihime. “Like who? We’re not in Karakura.”

Uryu nodded at his classmate thoughtfully. “Inoue may be right. Karakura is be a hotspot for hollow activity, but it’s not the only place in Japan they appear. The Soul Society must have shinigami assigned to other areas and ready to dispatch when a hollow is detected.”

“But,” Ichigo glanced from side to side. “I don’t see any shinigami around.”

“Maybe we can ask them if they heard or felt something unusual, like a loud bang or rush of wind?” The orange-haired girl pointed to a couple not too far away, the only other people around. The woman was standing with her hands clasped in front of her and a vague but polite smile on her face while the man gestured wildly, clearly excited – maybe re-enacting a fight scene from some anime? – and not at all reading his companion’s disinterest.

“Yeesh,” he laughed. “Looks like a date going really poorly. She’d probably appreciate the interruption...wait. Is that…” His jaw dropped. “Rukia?!” 

The woman was Rukia. She was wearing a very plain, conservative dress with a cardigan buttoned over it, very much unlike the “cute” clothes Rukia favored when she had been staying in the world of the living. And the fact that she hadn’t burst out yelling or swinging a fist at her companion, a man he didn't recognize in a black tracksuit and leather boots, seemed out of character as well. He hadn’t seen her since she’d decided to stay in Soul Society after her rescue from the execution block, but he couldn’t imagine her changing _this_ much in such a short time. What was going on here? Was she undercover again or something?

“Oh, wow!” Orihime exclaimed, hands clasped at her chest. “It _is_ Rukia!” She began waving her arms wildly over her head, running at the couple. “Rukia! Rukia! Hey!”

Rukia didn’t react, but the man’s shoulders suddenly went stiff. He grabbed Rukia’s shoulder and began to haul her rapidly in the opposite direction, murmuring to her in a low voice. She seemed surprised but not angry at the treatment. She only pulled away when she caught a glimpse of the orange torpedo heading for her over his shoulder.

“Rukia! When did you get back?” Orihime’s flying tackle-hug rocked Rukia on her feet, and her arms came up around the high schooler in surprise, patting her back awkwardly. 

“H-hello there! Uh, I think there’s been some confusion?” Rukia gently pulled herself away, and smoothed her skirt. The man’s arm dropped heavily over her shoulder. 

“ _I’ll_ say!” The man glared, his blue eyes glinting dangerously. “Her name is _Kotone_!”

Rukia, or rather, Kotone, smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you.”

Ichigo and Uryu walked up beside Orihime. “Hmmm, it appears we were mistaken,” Uryu said. “I apologize on behalf of Miss Inoue. I see now you’re a few years older than our friend, but the resemblance is otherwise uncanny.”

“Oh,” Orihime said, disappointed, but with her face still much too close to Kotone’s than was polite for strangers. “Look! Her eyes are purple. Rukia’s are blue.” 

“Glad we got that settled then,” her companion answered. “Not your friend. Kotone. So now we’ll be on our-”

“Are you by chance followers of my Lord Yato?” Kotone cut in somewhat eagerly. 

The three glanced at each other, confused. “Lord _who_?” Ichigo asked.

“Oh…” Kotone drooped a bit. “I thought...well, never mind. So,” glancing between Orihime, Uryu, and weirdly enough, the handle of Zangetsu visible over Ichigo’s shoulder, “the three of you work for, uh-” She darted a pleading look at Yato and then to Ichigo, clearing waiting for an introduction and embarrassed not to know already. 

Ichigo blanched, pointing at himself. “You can see me?” 

Kotone giggled behind her hand. “Of course! I _am_ a regalia, after all, your Lordship.”

Yato stepped slightly in front of Kotone, still glaring fit to kill. “You shouldn’t call him that,” he said to Kotone. “He’s not a god like me. He’s a half-spirit, and that sword isn’t a regalia.” 

“Oh!” Her eyes widened in shock. “I didn’t know such a thing was possible.”

Orihime smiled sweetly, over her sadness at missing Rukia in favor of potentially gaining a new friend. “So you’re a spirit?”

Ichigo scoffed and pointed a thumb at Yato, adding, “and you mean for us to believe this wannabe gangster is supposed to be a god?” 

Kotone puffed up, and even if she really _wasn’t_ Rukia, her indignant reaction made Ichigo feel a little more on solid footing. 

“He is, and you should show some respect!” Yato practically preened at her words, until she followed it up with, “disrespecting my Lord is disrespecting _me_! Not every lowly spirit haunting street corners has what it takes to be a regalia, and to be selected is a great privilege, even for a shrine-less, worship-less, no-name god like Lord Yato. I won’t stand for you insulting my great capability!” 

Ichigo burst out laughing, and when it looked like Kotone might try to show off her ‘great capability’ by rearranging his face, he coughed and crossed his arms. “Say I do believe you that he’s a god, which I _don’t_ , by the way. Why’re you hanging out with a - how’d you put it - ‘shrine-less, worship-less, no-name’ jerk like him?”

Kotone answered with a sincere, serene smile. “It’s a great resume building position.” Yato slumped to the ground at the words, burying his face in an arm and pounding a fist into the pavement. Kotone glanced down at him. “Please don’t take offense, Lord Yato. You know I treasure the experience I’m earning at your side.” 

Turning back to the humans, she explained, “take this as some sisterly advice if you ever wish to become a regalia.” No one noticed Yato’s eyes flying open at this statement. “Humility and industriousness are extremely important traits to cultivate to avoid stinging your master. For those reasons, Lord Yato is a pretty good option for a first-timer, especially since he forgives minor slights that might get you banished from the side of the more serious gods. I now have lots of experience dealing with all sorts of weird god behavior and uncomfortable living conditions without complaint! Once I’ve put in my time here, I’m sure I’ll have no trouble finding a position with another, more established god.” Stars appeared in her eyes. “Maybe even one of the seven gods of fortune!” 

“You could at least _pretend_ you plan to stay while in front of me,” Yato murmured into the sidewalk. 

“I’ve never met a god before!” Orihime exclaimed, fascinated. “Only shinigami, but I don’t think they count since they used to be human...oh, but you were too! Have you been to Soul Society before?” 

Kotone frowned, confused. “No...is that part of Takamagahara?”

“I don’t think so? It’s where souls that have been collected by shinigami go.” Orihime clapped her hands in delight as a thought occurred to her. “You should visit! You can meet our friend Rukia. I’m sure she’d be shocked at how alike you look. And she has an enormous house, so you could stay there!”

Ichigo sighed. “Orihime, you can’t just invite strangers to other peoples’ homes.”

Orihime deflated a bit. “Well, I guess the Kuchiki manor is technically her brother’s house. But Byakuya is nice now, so I’m sure he’d say okay for Rukia’s sake!”

“Byakuya Kuchiki?” Kotone’s face took on a strange expression as her hand drifted unconsciously up to her heart. “Why do I feel like I’ve heard that name before?”

Yato leapt to this feet, hauling Kotone around by the shoulders so she faced him and spoke, entirely too loudly, “Byakuyo? Why, that’s the name of the man who hired us to find his wedding ring after he accidentally dropped it in the river! Remember? Your clothes were entirely ruined after that,” he laughed, still keeping her facing only him. “I think that’s the maddest you ever got at me!” 

Kotone’s expression cleared. “That’s right,” she scowled. “I never want to think about that again.” 

“Good, because we have more important things to be focusing on right now.” He pulled a cheap flip phone out of his pocket and waggled it at her. “We have a new job!” 

“Another phantom?” She seemed to have forgotten the others' presence entirely.

“No, babysitting! Mothers trust women with their children more, so why don’t you go on ahead?” 

Kotone frowned slightly. “Okay.” Yato flipped open the phone and hit redial with one hand while he kept the other on Kotone’s shoulder. To Ichigo and the others’ shock, she blurred and vanished, leaving the area in something that clearly wasn’t flash step. 

“What the heck was that?!” Ichigo blurted out, hand whipping up to his sword hilt.

“I just sent her away from you before you could do more damage, that’s all,” Yato stated, still facing where Kotone had been standing. 

Uryu summoned his bow, and looking hesitantly between the two boys, Orihime summoned her shun shun rikka as well.

“What did you do to her?” Uryu demanded. “Was that some kind of hypnotism? She clearly knows Byakuya, but you made her forget.”

Ichigo swung his sword out, the length causing it to nearly touch the other man’s face. “Was that really Rukia after all? Have you kidnapped her and brainwashed her somehow?”

Yato finally turned to look at them, and all three involuntarily took a step back. His blue eyes now glowed with rage, pupils turned slitted like a cat’s, and the spiritual pressure flowing off him felt even more crushing than the captains they faced in Soul Society.

“She _isn’t_ your Rukia and she never _was_ your Rukia. But she knew her. And she can’t be allowed to remember that or she’ll die. Horribly, painfully, in despair. She’ll become a monster that I’ll have no choice but to put down.”

Ichigo’s grip slackened slightly. “Are you talking about hollowfication?”

Yato sneered. “My regalia don’t tend to stay with me forever, but so long as she wears the name I gave her, I’ll protect her from that fate. Even if it means killing you. So if I ever catch you trying to speak to her again, you better be prepared to learn why they call me a god of calamity.”

The god then teleported away, same as he’d sent the girl.

Ichigo grimaced into the silence left behind. “I think we need to tell Rukia about this.”

Uryu put out a hand. “We don’t know if he was telling the truth about the consequences of undoing whatever memory block he has up on that girl. And if we tell Kuchiki, she won’t stop until she finds Kotone.”

Orihime twisted her fingers together. “I don’t think Rukia would ever forgive herself if she caused Kotone to hollowfy, whatever they are to each other.”

Uryu sighed. “Let’s do some research. Then we can determine where to go from here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So did Hisana get a better job? Or did she become a phantom after remembering all the regrets she died with? What do you think?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably not going to be very consistent between whether I use the Japanese term or the English-translated term for stuff like shinki vs. regalia and shinigami vs. soul reaper. Sorry in advance if this causes any confusion.


End file.
